


Antithesis

by La_Mort



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:04:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Mort/pseuds/La_Mort
Summary: Does the flap of a butterfly's wings in Tokyo cause a tornado in Idaho? Or to be more precise, what would the world really be like without Tuxedo Kamen?





	1. 00: Prologue

00: Prologue

  _The present contains nothing more than the past, and what is found in the effect was already in the cause._

 - Henri Bergson

* * *

    Mamoru was tired. They had been driving for hours with only one stop, but that had been ages ago and he was desperate for the toilet again. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, squirming against his seat belt, which seemed almost agonisingly tight.

   That morning, he had been bursting with excitement. It was his sixth birthday, and his parents had promised him a whole day of doing whatever he wanted. It had made him feel important, the possibility of making adult decisions was only granted to him on special occasions such as this, yet despite the extensive range of childhood pleasures that lay before him Mamoru was only interested in one.

   Sitting in the driveway next to his house, his father’s car had frequently been a source of many of Mamoru’s fantasies, and like most boys his age he had been captivated into an almost hypnotic state by the sleek machine and the way the sun gleamed against the paintwork in a kaleidoscope of metallic brilliance.

   From the backseat, as he watched the familiar greys and whites of his neighbourhood, and then the fresh greenery of the countryside, whiz by in a blur of colour as vivid and imaginative as an artist’s palette, he could pretend that it was he, and not his father, in the driving seat; that it was his hands caressing the smooth hardness of the steering wheel and easing the car into a higher gear.

   As they left the city behind them in a spread of urban sprawl with the sun high in the August sky, it seemed like the day would be the epitome of perfection. But there was only so long a child’s imagination could be occupied by the same thing, and after an hour Mamoru was bored and tired of sitting still for so long.

   His parents were arguing. They kept their voices low out of consideration for him, but enough snippets of their heated exchange made it to his ears for him to know they were lost. It had not seemed important to him at first, they had been lost before; on the way to the theme park, on the way back from visiting his father’s friends in Osaka, even on the way back from his grandparent’s house, but the hours rolled on until it was dark, and when there was still no sight of the city Mamoru became worried, and began to wonder if they would ever make it home.

   They had been travelling along the same mountain route for as long as Mamoru could remember, and the endless twists and turns were making him nauseous, bile swirling around his stomach like laundry in a machine and threatening to erupt from his throat if the road did not become straighter. Perhaps they had taken so many wrong turns reaching home had become impossible, and they were destined to spend eternity travelling the same never-ending stretch of road, their tiny car winding timidly in circles around the mountain’s hulk.

   “Mama, I’m tired,” Mamoru complained, his head lolling back against his headrest as his stomach groaned uncomfortably.

   “Shh honey, we’ll be home soon,” his mother tried to comfort him, although her voice sounded distracted and in the wing mirror her eyes reflected only worry.

   “We’d be home even sooner if your mother knew how to navigate,” his father muttered, hunched over the wheel in the image of someone who had exhausted both patience and stamina.

   “Darling please…” his wife pleaded wearily.

   “‘Please’ nothing,” he snapped, “you aren’t the one who’s been driving for three hours straight.”

   “That’s because there’s been nowhere to stop for the past three hours!” his wife retaliated sharply, “we can’t just stop in the middle of the highway!”

   “The road’s deserted for crying out loud, it’s not as if there’s anyone behind us!” the sudden rise in the volume of his father’s voice startled Mamoru, and he sat up stiffly.

   “If you want to stop, stop,” his mother said in exasperation, “just pull over here…”

   “I don’t _want_ to pull over,” he replied forcefully, “I just want to get home as soon as we can.”

   “Darling, not so fast,” his wife warned gently, a note of fear in her voice.

   Even from his half-tired state in the backseat Mamoru could feel the car accelerating, the tyres spinning even faster across the tarmac and pushing up a spray of gravel behind them as his father increased the pressure on the accelerator. He could hear his mother urging her husband to slow down but he did not seem to acknowledge her, and even though he remained in the same hunched position with his eyes fixed firmly ahead his attention did not seem to be on the road.

   The brakes squealed suddenly like the cry of a tortured animal as the next bend came too quickly for his father to react in time, echoing in the sharp night for a painful second of forever, before Mamoru was lost in the confusion of his mother screaming and his father, who almost never swore, cursing wildly as he spun the wheel round and round in his hands. Mamoru was thrown forwards and then to the side as the car swerved in a full circle like a maniacal merry-go-round, and as his seat belt cut into his stomach he had the urge to throw up and scream and cry at the same time.

   The car smashed through a metal barrier as if it were paper, leaving it twisted and warped like a diseased bone at the side of the road as gravity pulled greedily at the vehicle, dragging it down through the dark sky. Through eyes wide with terror and fear Mamoru was aware of the headlights picking out the vague grey ghosts of scrub-like trees and anorexic plant life as he hung suspended on the narrow sling of his seat belt, dangling like a broken marionette.

   His head felt heavy and his ears were dull with the sound of blood rushing past his brain, and as the nose of the car crumpled into broken rocks and mountain debris in a waste of metal and broken glass, the stench of burning rubber and blood and petrol filled his nostrils like a sickly cocktail. He had just enough time to remember his parents, for as they tumbled through the air in their bizarre acrobatic display his own desperate desire for survival had consumed him and he had forgotten them, and to remember the reason why they were here.

   _It’s my birthday…_

   And then, everything stopped, and as the car exploded in a hail of steel and glass and rubber, and the air filled with the smell of petrol and fire, it was if he had never existed.


	2. 01: Venus

01: Venus

  _Predictability: Does the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?_

 - Edward N. Lorenz

* * *

    Aino Minako ran, her feet slipping and sliding over the rain-slicked streets. The wind whipped fiercely at her sodden hair and threw it into her face, so that every so often she had to tear it away from her eyes to avoid running headlong into a wall. Or worse. But she kept on running. She didn’t really have a choice, if she stopped now it was all over. Then again, maybe it already was.

    She had lost sight of the Patrol over ten minutes ago, but she knew that meant nothing. They had other ways of finding her. Up ahead, Artemis darted in and out of the Tokyo back alleys, clearing piles of dirty rags and mounds of rubbish with ease, forgetting that she was not nearly so nimble, nor so used to the stench of the more squalid areas of the city.

    She resisted the urge to ask him how much further they had to go; as he had told her countless times before, they would get there when they got there. In the meantime, she had no choice but to trust that he knew where he was going. Not that she had ever had reason to doubt him before, and now more than ever she was amazed at his knowledge of the city she had liked to believe she knew like the back of her hand, weaving in and out of side streets and back alleys not even she knew existed.

    The city was for the most part deserted. Not that it surprised her at that time of night. Only those for whom business was worth risking death ventured onto the streets after dark, and Minako tended to keep her distance from those sorts of people, although she doubted whether it would make a difference anymore.

    Behind her, plumes of grey-black smoke rose into the air as the safehouse burned, oblivious to the rain soaking the rest of the Tokyo Sector of the Fourth Quarter. Noriko was dead, the others the same way or otherwise scattered throughout the city, perhaps running as she was now, scared, hunted. And Yoshiko…Inwardly, Minako shuddered. It was probably best not to think about it. Even now, she still couldn’t believe she had failed to notice something like that. Then again, she hadn’t exactly been paying attention too much over the past couple of months. Luna was right, her powers of observation were slipping.

    A distant shriek cut through the air like breaking glass, and she heard Artemis hiss the dreaded word under his breath. Minako willed her body to run faster, even though her lungs roared with agony and her muscles burnt with exhaustion. She didn’t need Artemis to tell her that if they had sent the youma after her she was as good as dead already. Perhaps given the circumstances, that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing.

    Unwillingly, she pictured Yoshiko’s face, twisting, contorting, and felt the prickle of goose bumps on her skin under the frigid rain soaking through her clothing. There was no time for regrets now, no point in replaying the scene over and over as if trying to mentally erase it from the timeline and go back to the way things were. She had let herself be seen, and that was that. Now that the enemy knew there was a Senshi running loose, no hiding place would be safe. She doubted whether even the Resistance would risk harbouring such a liability.

    She skidded to a halt suddenly, her heart stopping in her chest as a sharp white light cut directly across their pathway, stripping the narrow street of its darkness and casting a band of crude colour over a small section of urban decay.

    “They’ve found us!” she gasped, sweaty palm pressed against her henshin pen.

    “We’re not done for yet!” Artemis hissed through gritted teeth, his tail erect and his fur on end.

    But the search beacon passed them by, the wail of the siren that would have otherwise signalled their discovery silent, until the next time.

    “Come on,” Artemis growled as he took up flight once more, “let’s keep going.”

    Minako followed his instruction, not even pausing to question his order. In six years of occupation he had been her only companion, and had been the one who motivated her when all had seemed lost, when their search had not only seemed futile, but foolish, until he too had just given up. She hadn’t questioned him then, either, but had resigned herself to other tasks which had gradually consumed all of her attention. Such as staying alive, for instance. Besides, she could see his point. Given current circumstances, Tokyo was not the place to go looking for trouble, regardless of what Luna liked to think.

    Besides, what did Luna know? Where had she been when they needed her? Where had she been six years ago? But Minako knew that wasn’t fair. None of this was Luna’s fault, she had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now, when everything was falling down around their ears, she was the only one they could turn to. Of course, there was the possibility that she wouldn’t be there, that she had believed them when they said they had wanted no more part in it, and that they had wasted the only opportunity they were going to get.

    But Minako refused to believe that was going to happen. She had put her faith in Artemis; after all, he had never let her down before. Luna was going to be there, and there was no point in thinking what would happen if she wasn’t. The youma shrieked again, and Minako shuddered. There was more at stake than she wanted to believe.

* * *

    It had been almost six years since they had last visited the Crown Arcade, but in all that time it hadn’t really changed. Compared with its surroundings, it was in relatively good condition, and bore very few scars from the anarchy that had descended on the city in the weeks before the Dark Kingdom invasion. Sure, the glass-fronted doors were jet-black with a layer of thick grime, the panes crusted over with a network of sooty spiders’ webs and the lettering cracked and peeling, but underneath all the dirt and neglect, it was still the same old Crown. At least some things never seemed to change.

    Minako felt a strange twinge in her chest as a feeling of familiarity, tinged with a strong yearning for the past, washed over her. In the early days of the occupation, she and Artemis had used the arcade as a base as they had tried desperately to contact Luna and the other Senshi, although they had seemed to have vanished from the face of the Earth, leaving the two of them as the last line of defence against the Dark Kingdom onslaught.

    _Some defence we were,_ Minako thought bitterly as she surveyed the dead mass of the former Juban shopping district and, just beyond, the dark hulk of the compound.

    What scant moonlight there was did little to alleviate the depressing sight, and the driving rain merely added to the heavy atmosphere. There was no sound save the wind, as it howled in and out of windows long emptied of glass, sending eddies of dry dust that had perhaps lain there since the early days of the occupation spiralling into the air. A pair of faded mauve curtains billowed miserably from one of them, slapping against the frame with a pathetic squelch as rainwater slowly saturated the once gaudy fabric.

    Once the bustling hive of the Juban district of Tokyo, the street was now deserted, eventually abandoned by even the looters once they realised there was nothing left for them to take. Nobody went there now, it was too close to the compound for one thing, and people went out of their way to avoid passing through it, going so far as to take routes that doubled their journey time if they had to.

    A sudden movement caught Minako’s eye, a flicker of orange light at the top floor window of a building down the street. She tensed, watching for any sign that they had been spotted.

    “It’s probably the Resistance, lighting a signal fire,” Artemis said in a low voice as he followed her gaze.

    “Isn’t that a bit risky here, even for them?”

    “A tramp, then, trying to keep warm. Come on, we haven’t got time to be loitering around.”

    He bounded across the street without another word, and Minako followed him with almost the same level of stealth. Six years of dodging the Patrol had given her plenty of practice in making herself virtually invisible when the need arose.

    A sign had been pinned to the front of the arcade: ‘Closed until further notice’, and it seemed as though someone had tried to force the doors open and had given up halfway, as if realising their efforts were in vain. Artemis slipped easily through the narrow gap between the doors, but Minako, being so much taller and wider than he was, found it a little more difficult. As she tried to wriggle her way inside, one of the doors gave way to her weight, squealing in protest as she half tumbled through the opening.

    For a moment she stood on the threshold as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. Rows of arcade machines stood silently in the dark like a parade of sombre troops preparing for inspection, their smashed screens leering at her with yawning maws. Coils of exposed cable snaked a pathway through the six years worth of dust that coated the floor, ending in an explosion of live wire and shredded plastic. It seemed the arcade had not escaped the ravages of the pre-invasion panic after all, and as Minako stepped over the remains of a broken stool, she couldn’t help but feel sad at the realisation that yet another memory had been destroyed.

    The moonlight silhouetted the only machine that still seemed to be intact, although she doubted it was still operational. Ironically, it was the _Sailor V_ game, and she was just about able to make out her own smiling image, immortalised in paint on the side. If only she had known then…

    “Good of you to come. Although, given tonight’s turn of events, I’m not exactly surprised to see you.”

    Minako jumped, so transfixed by the sight of the videogame that she had failed to notice Luna, perched atop the stool in front of the machine and almost invisible in the dark. She looked at them with what might have been an expression of smugness, as if waiting for some sort of apology.

    “Okay, Luna, so you were right,” Artemis said finally, his voice impatient yet resigned, “we’re ready to listen. So talk.”

    “Not so fast. First, you tell me how you got here,” she paused, looking directly at Artemis, “the girl, Yoshiko?”

    He nodded, lowering his head.

    “I thought as much. Shame on you, Artemis,” she scolded, “a aura that strong you should have picked up straightaway. You _are_ getting sloppy.”

    Artemis looked at her incredulously. “You knew? You _knew_? For gods’ sake Luna, why didn’t you say anything? Do you have any idea what we went through out there tonight?”

    “Oh, I have more than an idea,” she retorted, all trace of smugness gone, “I was there six years ago, remember? What happened tonight was child’s play compared to what we had to face back then.”

    “I’m well aware of what happened, Luna. We were there, too, in case you’ve forgotten, so don’t act as though you’re the only one who had to deal with it!”

    “Stop it!” Minako interrupted, just as Luna was about to reply, “bickering about it now isn’t going to solve anything. The enemy can’t be far behind us, and unless we figure out exactly why we’re in this mess in the first place we don’t stand a chance!”

    “Minako-chan’s right,” Artemis conceded. For a moment he said nothing, staring at the pattern his paw prints had left in the dust on the floor. “Six years, Luna,” he said finally, “six years, and not so much as a word. What happened?”

    “First, you tell me your side,” she said, quietly but stubbornly, “from the beginning.”

* * *

    The word safehouse was a misleading word at best. Given current circumstances, nowhere was safe anymore, much less a rundown building with no electricity and locks that a child could have picked, let alone a youma with the strength to blow the whole door off and take half the house with it. But they were all the residents of Tokyo had, and no matter how filthy, how neglected, and how decrepit, they were better, and infinitely safer, than sleeping on the streets.

    Minako was lucky in the sense that Murakami Noriko was more paranoid than most about whom she admitted to her own particular nest, although, as things turned out, she was not nearly paranoid enough. In return for a bed and the security of numbers the safehouse supposedly guaranteed, residents were expected to comply with a series of strict but easily enforceable rules, or risk being evicted.

    There were, of course, those who thought they could bend the rules to suit their own personal whims, but Noriko was not the sort of woman to get on the wrong side of, and more than once Minako had awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of a blazing row. The incident the previous night had been no exception, and although Minako was more than used to the noise to be able to drift back off to sleep again, that particular time Noriko had seemed more irate than usual, which for her was some achievement.

    “I don’t care where you found it, get rid of it!”

    “But Noriko-san…”

    Minako recognised the voice as belonging to Watanabe Yoshiko, a young girl of about fourteen who had arrived at the safehouse around two weeks previously. Her background was a mystery, but that in itself was not unusual. Besides, she was polite enough, and so quiet she seemed to blend into the wallpaper without so much as a second glance. The perfect resident, as it was.

    “Don’t ‘but’ me! You know the rules; no animals, and what do you suppose a cat is, hmm?”

    Minako wasn’t able to catch Yoshiko’s reply as she bolted upright, the rusted springs in her futon protesting at the sudden movement and a cold sweat breaking out along her spine. Her heart thudded noisily against her sternum, and with a trembling hand she threw her one moth-eaten blanket to the side, not even aware of the coldness of the floor as her feet hit it with a muffled thump. Her whole body shook as she darted to the door of the tiny box room, not even hesitating to throw some clothes over her thin nightshirt despite the chill in the air.

    Her head was filled with only one thought; Artemis had been discovered, and once Noriko found out he was hers, she was homeless again. And being homeless in Tokyo was not a desirable prospect, especially since people had started disappearing.

    Disappearances had become something of a commonplace occurrence since the occupation, and people rarely batted an eyelid if a neighbour went missing, or a fellow lodger failed to return for the night. They merely shrugged their shoulders and went about their daily business as always, and the following morning the ‘To Let’ sign appeared in the window again.

    Besides, those who disappeared were usually involved in some dubious activity or another, and so more often than not it was their own fault if they were hauled off to the compound. What happened to them once they got there was a mystery nobody cared enough to solve, for no one had ever left the compound once they were inside. All they knew was it was something to do with energy, but then again, everything the enemy did was something to do with energy.

    But recently, people had started to disappear more often, and rumours abounded of safehouses that had been broken into, the occupants vanished with no hint or clue as to where they had gone, or the fact that they had even existed in the first place. No Patrol had ever done _that_ before, at least, none that Minako knew of. Still, rumours though they may have been, they were enough to keep her inside after dark, and although initially Artemis had been more than happy to do the same, eventually his instinct had got the better of him.

    Tired of having to hide in the cramped space under the futon every time there was so much as a whisper from beyond the bedroom door, he had started to sneak out after dark, secretly at first, and then, after Minako caught him on one occasion, on the assurance that he would stay low and keep out of trouble. She had been angry with him at first, but there were so many more places a cat could go that a human couldn’t, and if they wanted to stay alive they had to make sure they stayed one step ahead of the enemy, no matter what it took.

    But it seemed Artemis had been less than careful, and as Minako threw open the flimsy door with such force the whole house shook, she half expected to see an enraged Noriko holding the white cat by the scruff of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face. There was no such scene however, and instead she found herself looking at Noriko towering above poor Yoshiko, who was clutching the offending animal protectively to her chest, although she was no less enraged. At the sight of Minako she looked up sharply, flashing a hurricane lamp in her face and half blinding her.

    “Well?” she hissed, as Minako threw her hands to her eyes to shield them from the sudden glare, “what do you want?”

    Dwarfed by the tent-like nightshirt hanging over her elfin frame, Murakami Noriko was nevertheless an imposing sight. Her reputation was well known in the surrounding area and indeed beyond, and there were rumours she was involved with some of the more active Resistance groups, and if there was one crime that could guarantee the attention of the Patrol, it was involvement with the Resistance. If she were not so desperate for somewhere to stay, that in itself would have been enough for Minako to keep her distance; if there was one thing she did not need, it was the Patrol breathing down her neck.

    “I’m waiting,” Noriko said impatiently.

    Minako swallowed dryly. Now she was actually standing in the hallway, with Noriko’s eyes boring into her and the light of the hurricane lamp burning her retinas, she could think of nothing to say. Yoshiko, however, solved that problem for her.

    “We can’t just throw it onto the streets, that would be cruel!” she whined, cradling the animal in her arms and fixing Noriko with a pleading stare.

    “I’m sure you could keep it company,” Noriko replied icily, to which the girl squeaked in terror. The cat started to meow, as if adding its own protests.

    Minako glanced at it, almost as if by accident, hoping that if it was Artemis he knew what trouble he was getting her into. But it was a pair of brown eyes that blinked back at her, not blue, and the cat’s fur was black, not white. It wasn’t Artemis. But even before the relief had time to sink in, there was something else about the animal that she noticed. A crescent moon bald spot. It had a crescent moon bald spot, just like Artemis. Minako couldn’t help but feel puzzled; as far as she knew, Artemis was the only animal with such unusual markings. Unless…

    Oh gods, it couldn’t be! She resisted the urge to cry out, and stifled the noise by placing her hands over her mouth as she stared at the cat. It blinked again, slowly, deliberately, as if to confirm Minako’s suspicions, and she knew then that she was looking directly into the eyes of Luna, Artemis’ fellow guardian and former advisor to the late Queen Serenity. Luna, who had disappeared six years ago and who they had presumed dead, along with the other Senshi. And if she was alive, then maybe…

    “Look, Noriko-san, let me keep in my room, just for tonight,” Minako tried to plead with the woman, although whether or not it would do any good was another matter, “I’ll get rid of it first thing tomorrow, I promise.”

    But Noriko didn’t seem convinced. “You know the rules as well as she does,” she said, nodding towards Yoshiko, “it goes now, or the pair of you go with it.”

    “I know, I know, but just this once. It won’t happen again, I promise!”

    “I said ‘no’.”

    “But if we let it out now, it’s going to cause all sorts of commotion! And you know what the Patrol are like…”

    It was a poor attempt, but Noriko looked as though she was seriously considering it, pursing her lips as if deep in thought.

    “Just for tonight,” she said finally, “but I warn you, if it’s still here by the time I get up, you’re both out. Got it?” she added sharply, flashing her hurricane lamp at the pair of them, the tiny candle flickering with the sudden movement.

    “Hai, Noriko-san. Thank you.” Minako bowed, more out of relief than anything. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yoshiko follow suit.

    Noriko nodded at them, her way of bidding them good-night, before vanishing down the hallway, the light bobbing up and down in partnership with the rhythm of her footsteps.

    “Thank you, Minako-san,” Yoshiko’s voice floated out of the darkness, making her jump.

    The girl looked at her expectantly, holding out her arms as if presenting her with an offering, and as Minako reached forward to take Luna, she smiled at her with a flash of white teeth. It was only afterwards that Minako remembered how cold her skin had been, how clammy to the touch it was, and how unusually sharp her teeth had been, but by then, of course, it was already too late.

    She waited until Yoshiko, too, vanished into the shadows before returning to her own room, not even wanting to risk uttering a single word until she was certain the door was shut firmly behind her. The first thing she noticed upon entering, however, was that the room was unusually cold, even more so than when she had left it little more than ten minutes ago. At first, she couldn’t quite figure out why, until she looked towards the window. It was wide open, the tattered strip of linen that served as a curtain fluttering in the night breeze, even though she could have sworn it had been fully closed when she went to bed that night.

    “Letting your guard down, aren’t you, Minako-chan?”

    “Artemis!” she gasped, as he suddenly emerged from behind the wardrobe, jumping nimbly onto the bed.

    “The same could be said for you, Artemis,” Luna spoke quietly, her voice almost a whisper, and at the sound of her voice he looked up, his expression understandable stunned.

    “Luna?” he gaped, eyes widening as he spoke.

    Without warning, she leapt from Minako’s arms and onto the floor, her paws connecting soundlessly with the bare boards as she surveyed first Artemis, and then Minako.

    “Well then,” she said, eyes wondering between them, taking obvious delight in their identically shocked expressions, “what have you been up to these past six years?”

* * *

    “I know that part already,” Luna interrupted, “what I want to know is, what happened later, after I left.”

     “Sorry,” Minako bobbed her head apologetically.

     Artemis said nothing, although he was visibly tense, and Minako knew he remembered the conversation that followed as vividly as she did. They had argued, not at first, but as things progressed it became obvious that the two cats were not exactly seeing eye to eye. Luna had wanted them to start the search again, had told them the other Senshi were not dead, as they had thought, but had been captured by the enemy. To Minako, that had been the biggest shock of all, and she had to sit down before it could sink in properly. Not dead? If they were still alive, then maybe that meant they still had a chance…

    Luna had pleaded with them, begged them to join her, and Minako had been more than ready to take her up on her offer, but it had been Artemis who stopped her, Artemis who had said ‘no’. They were finished, he told her, no more missions, no more princess, no more battles; the fight was over, the enemy had won. Afterwards, he had told Minako he had never seen Luna so heartbroken, so destitute, but to Minako she had just looked sad. Sad, and more than a little lonely.

    “So be it,” Luna had said quietly, jumping onto the window ledge, the curtain billowing around her body, “but if things get any worse, it’ll be all your fault this time.”

     “How can things get any worse?” Artemis had retorted, but Luna merely leapt through the open window, her black fur blending into the darkness as if she had never been there at all.

    But, less than twenty-four hours later, he and Minako were going to find out just how much worse it could get.

* * *

    “Do you think we were too hard on her?” Minako asked Artemis the next day as they wandered through Tokyo’s urban sprawl.

    It was January, and the sky was heavy and grey with the threat of rain, no doubt a premonition of what was to come later. It was early evening, and over an hour until it began to get dark, yet the streets were already deserted, the rest of the city retreating to the relative safety of their homes in anticipation of nightfall. Every so often, someone would hurry past them, shoulders hunched and collars pulled over their ears, their eyes lowered to the floor, as if eye contact was enough to incriminate them in some imaginary crime.

    Minako, too, wished she was indoors, but she had to eat, and that meant trekking halfway across the city in search of half a loaf of blackened bread and a handful of stale cheese. Rations, as she was more than well aware, were growing scarcer by the day, and she wondered how long it would be before the rest of the city’s frustration with the Resistance monopoly over food production escalated into an all-out war. For an organisation that prostituted themselves as the future saviour of the human race, they seemed a little more than antithetical to their claims.

    But her thoughts eventually turned away from the Resistance to the events of the previous night. Both of them had been so stunned at the revelation that Luna was still alive, let alone at the prospect of resuming their crusade against the Dark Kingdom once more, that neither of them had stopped to even consider her feelings. After all, no doubt she had felt some responsibility for the way things had turned out, and six years worth was a lot of guilt to harbour.

    “Luna’s a lot tougher than you may think,” was Artemis’ reply, although even he sounded unconvinced.

    “Do you think she’ll come back?”

    “Who knows?” he shrugged, trying to give the impression that he couldn’t care less, but Minako knew he was just as concerned as she was.

    They walked the rest of the way in silence, chewing on the hunks of burnt bread as they went. Their journey took them past the Hikawa Shrine, where an old man dressed in the tattered robes of a Shinto priest often sat begging. Minako usually bowed as she passed, out of respect, not that anyone paid attention to religion anymore, but that day he was gone. Instead, there was a sign nailed to the entrance: ‘Access prohibited. Trespassers will be executed on sight. Orders of Jadeite, Strategic Commander of the Fourth Quarter.’

    Minako walked even faster, her eyes to the floor, although she was able to catch sight of a few Dark Kingdom soldiers half-heartedly patrolling the grounds, making their presence known by shouting raucous comments as she passed. She clutched at the henshin pen in her pocket, fingers twitching as she quashed the urge to yank it out and transform then and there.

    Things had not always been like this, she reminded herself constantly, as if there was a chance that by not doing so she would forget. There had been a time when people had shown respect for the traditions of their ancestors, but that time was past, and the soldiers that defiled the once holy temple were not of this world.

    She hated them all, every last one of them, hated the way she could still sense their arrogant, self-satisfied smirks even after she had rounded a corner and was finally rid of them, hated the way they disrespected the temples and forbid the old teachings just because they contradicted the words of their Queen. But most of all she hated the fact that they could do anything they pleased, could spit in her face, push her to the ground and rob her of every last shred of dignity she had, and she wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. She was powerless. She, a Senshi, and the very thought filled her with disgust.

    She gripped her henshin pen even harder. There were still some things she was capable of. But what good could she do by herself? Sure, she could put pay to a handful of Dark Kingdom troops at the most, but what about the rest of them? What about Jadeite, lording it over everybody in his fortress on the former site of the Imperial Palace? What about Beryl? What about that _thing_ , Metallia?

    Luna had three Senshi, and not even that had been enough. If it was, the world would not be in the state it was in now. What hope did Minako have by herself? But even though she hadn’t dare admit it to Artemis, Luna’s visit the previous night had given her hope, even if it had just been a little. If the other three Senshi were alive, perhaps the past six years wouldn’t have been in vain after all, perhaps there was still a chance, perhaps…

    They rounded another corner and she stopped suddenly, eyes on a plume of grey smoke that was already curling its way into the darkening sky. An uncomfortable feeling was brewing in the pit of her stomach, one that grew in intensity when she realised its source. Artemis, too, had evidently noticed it, for he had also stopped, his tail twitching with what Minako had learnt to recognise as fear.

    “The safehouse?” she whispered, “but – but Noriko would never let that happen!”

    But they both knew the truth, even then, the same way they knew it would be more than just dangerous to go back there then. But although her every survival instinct told her to stay away, Minako had to know why, even though she feared the worst. She ran towards the smoke, barely even heeding Artemis’ warning. If this had happened because the enemy had found out she was a Senshi…

    A small crowd had gathered outside, even at that late an hour, hovering outside the building like a cloud of moths, intrigued but careful not to get their wings singed. Minako recognised a few of them, neighbours, people she passed everyday on the street, but they all avoided her gaze and refused to answer her questions, and so she pushed her way through them, paying little attention to their shouts of protest. A notice similar to the one at the shrine had been tacked to the front door, but she tore it down, throwing it to the ground without a second thought.

    The fire seemed to originate from somewhere at the back of the house, probably the kitchen, and had not been alight long enough to spread throughout the rest of the building. Minako figured she would have enough time to find Noriko and whoever else was still inside before getting the hell out. Still, as she pushed open the front door, a thin trail of smoke began to snake its way around her ankles, and she had to place her hand over her mouth to protect her lungs from the fumes.

    “Noriko-san!” she called, before she was consumed by a fit of coughing, “Noriko-san!”

    She pushed open the door to the front room, the one place she could bank on finding the missing owner of the safehouse, and all at once it became apparent why the house had been set ablaze. Wooden crates lined the back wall, a few of them burst open, their contents rolling across the floor. Minako picked one up as it came to rest at her feet; a tin of tomatoes, the expiry code on its label dated one year previously. Noriko, it seemed, had been a racketeer, illegally storing canned food from before the occupation right under their very noses, probably to hand over to the Resistance at a later date.

    A noise from the corner nearest the window startled her, and she looked up, the can falling from her hand and rolling into the hallway.

    “Yoshiko-chan!” she exclaimed, “what are you still doing here?”

    The girl stared at her, blinking dumbly.

    Minako gestured wildly at the hallway. “The house is on fire! You have to get out!”

    But Yoshiko merely stood there, silent and smiling eerily.

    “Where’s Noriko?” Minako asked, the uncomfortable feeling returning to the pit of her stomach.

    “Gone,” the girl replied, “the Patrol took her away.” She grinned, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “All gone.”

    Minako’s blood suddenly chilled, for it was then that she noticed the thin trail of red across her hand, and the rows of needle-sharp teeth lining her otherwise angelic expression.

    “Minako-chan, she’s a youma!” Artemis shouted a sudden warning from the doorway, where he had appeared seconds before, as Yoshiko transformed in front of their very eyes, flesh rippling and contorting as her bones tore her body into a new shape.

    Minako screamed as Yoshiko lunged for her, leathered hand clawing for her face as she dodged to the side. But Yoshiko was fast, and as it leapt at Minako again, eyes bulging and teeth snapping as it tried to bite into her flesh, she pulled her henshin pen from her pocket and thrust it into the air.

    “Venus Power, Make-Up!” she cried, and as the pen worked its magic the youma seemed to pause.

    “Senshi!” it spat, although it sounded shocked, surprised, and just a little afraid.

    Sailor Venus fired off her Crescent Beam without hesitation, aiming for the youma’s heart, but it was quicker than she had anticipated, and instead the attack connected with its shoulder, unleashing a geyser of green blood that spattered the floor and ceiling. The youma recoiled from the impact of the attack, roaring with pain and clutching at its wound in an attempt to still the flow of blood. Venus lifted her arm, preparing another attack, but a shout from Artemis broke her concentration.

    “Minako-chan, get out of here, the whole house is about to go up!”

    She glanced towards the door, where clouds of black smoke were already billowing into the room, the first tongues of flame licking greedily at the crates nearest the door as they sought out more fuel. As the youma writhed in pain, Venus picked up the nearest can and hurled it at the window, the cheap glass shattering upon impact. Wind whipped through the opening, and as she scrabbled towards the window the first drops of rain splattered against her skin.

    Outside, commotion reigned, the onlookers scattering at the sight of the spreading flames, although half of them paused as Venus launched herself through the window before landing cat-like on the pavement in front of the house, awestruck by the first Senshi any of them had ever seen. Although none of them quite understood exactly what she was, they nonetheless felt the need to pay her some sort of homage, and started to crowd around her, oblivious to even the fire roaring above their heads. But Venus had no time to be overwhelmed by their reaction, for she knew that her attack on Yoshiko had bought her minutes at most.

    “Minako-chan, we have to get out of here!” Artemis urged as inside, Yoshiko began to stir.

    Pushing through the crowd once more, Minako de-transformed, knowing she would be harder to detect if she was in civilian form, and then, she fled.

* * *

    “So there you have it,” Artemis said quietly.

    “And the youma?” Luna asked.

    Both of them remained silent.

    “I see,” she said, a slight hint of disappointment in her voice.

    Minako looked away, as if focusing on something at the back of the room.

    “Jeez, Luna, what did you expect?” Artemis said softly.

    Luna merely shrugged.

    “Now, tell us your side, like you promised.”

    “I didn’t promise anything,” she retorted, jumping off the stool and walking towards the door.

    “Luna!”

    “I never promised you that I would tell you what happened,” she paused, glancing over her shoulder, “you just jumped to conclusions.”

    “Then what’s the point?” Minako whispered, turning to face them again, a hint of unshed tears in her blue eyes, “how can you expect us to change anything if we don’t know how the world ended up like this in the first place?”

    “Let me ask you something, Minako-chan,” Luna said, almost coldly, “what did it feel like out there tonight, knowing you failed?”

    “I - ” she faltered, not quite knowing how to answer.

    “That was uncalled for, Luna,” Artemis said harshly.

    But she didn’t seem to care. “Remember that feeling?” she said, “only now, imagine it ten times as worse, and imagine it lasting for six years.”

    They all fell silent then, and it was Artemis who finally spoke.

    “No-one ever said it was your fault, Luna. The other Senshi…”

    “Don’t you dare blame them!” Luna shouted suddenly, her eyes filling with tears, “I was the one who was responsible for training them! Oh, it was all well and good for you, swanning around half the world like you were the bee’s knees…”

    “Now just a minute…”

    “No, you ‘just a minute’. You could have helped, Artemis, but you didn’t. You were too busy getting your faces plastered all over the ‘papers and making childish videogames. Whatever happened to teamwork, Artemis? What happened to _partnership_?”

    “It was hard on us too, Luna,” he said quietly.

    “Oh, I bet it was,” she hissed, “the magnificent Sailor V? Give me a break.”

    “That’s enough!” Minako snapped suddenly, “is that the only reason you led us here? To make fun of us? To try and make us feel guilty for something none of us could prevent?” She stared directly at Luna eyes blazing. “Well, if that’s all you’re going to do, you can forget it. Come on Artemis, we don’t need this.”

    With a final, icy glance at Luna, she marched towards the door, her fists balled at her sides. Artemis hesitated, as if he half thought she was bluffing, before taking up her lead.

    “Wait!” Luna cried, and then, sounding resigned, “if you want to know what happened, I’ll tell you, although there isn’t really that much to it.”

    Minako folded her arms across her chest. “We’re listening,” she said.


	3. Beginning

02: Beginning

  _A true friend knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you’ve_ _forgotten the words._

 _-_ Unknown

* * *

      The Dark Kingdom invasion had not happened overnight. At first, the government had tried to deny the rumours of strange, grotesque monsters with the power to mimic human form prowling the city, and had dismissed any connection with the inexplicably large numbers of otherwise healthy people suddenly collapsing as mere coincidence. But as the reports grew in both frequency and ferocity, they had eventually been forced to acknowledge that something was very wrong in the city of Tokyo. By then, of course, it was far too late.

* * *

   “Umino likes you, Usagi-chan!”

   The girl called Usagi squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. She knew Naru was only teasing, but there was a little too much truth in her cajoling for Usagi’s liking. She glanced at the awkward profile of Umino Gurio, seated a few rows in front, and grimaced slightly. He was smart, and sufficiently pleasant to talk to, but that alone was not enough to make him boyfriend material in Usagi’s eyes. He just wasn’t her type. Plus, she, Umino and Naru had known each other for years; she just couldn’t imagine dating one of her closest friends.

   She pulled her textbook towards her, trying to concentrate on Haruna-sensei’s English lesson. After all, as her mother said, she was going to be in high school soon. It was time she started paying attention. But paying attention wasn’t exactly Usagi’s forte, and soon enough she found herself doodling on a piece of scrap paper she kept hidden in the back of her textbook for exactly that purpose.

   As soon as she was finished, she leant back to look at her handiwork. It was a scene she drew often, perfecting as the years went on, adding more detail and flourish as her imagination developed. The drawing was of her as a princess, in a flowing white dress, staring adoringly at her prince, who, as all fairytale princes should be in Usagi’s eyes, was tall, and dark, and handsome, and in her mind, adored her equally. She smiled to herself.

   _Some day…_

   “Very nice, Tsukino-san,” Usagi jumped at the sound of Haruna-sensei’s voice. In the midst of her daydream she had not heard her approach, “if only you could put as much effort into your schoolwork.” She dropped a single sheet of paper on Usagi’s desk, the number thirty scratched at the top of the page in red ink. “Try harder next time.”

  Usagi groaned as she stuffed her drawing back into her textbook, her fantasy forgotten. Her mother was going to kill her.

* * *

   “Daijoubu, Usagi-chan, you’ll do better next time,” Naru gave the other girl’s arm a comforting squeeze.

   It was lunch time, and the two of them were sitting outside at one of the benches in the school grounds, taking advantage of the warm spring weather.

   “Will I?” Usagi stared miserably at the piece of paper drooping pathetically in her hand, the red thirty at the top of the page standing out like a fresh wound against the white background.

   “Of course you will, it was a hard test,” Naru replied.

   Usagi’s eyes slid towards her friend’s paper, and the number eighty-five in the top right hand corner. “It’s alright for you, Naru-chan, you’re smart. You always get good grades,” she said enviously.

   “I’m not that smart, Usagi-chan. I just study really hard. That’s how most people get good results,” she bit her bottom lip, and Usagi knew she wasn’t going to like what was coming next, “you could too, you know, if you put in a bit more effort.”

   “Not you, as well,” Usagi groaned and buried her head in her arms. “you’re starting to sound like Mama. Besides,” she added, her voice muffled through her sleeve fabric, “studying all the time is hard work. And boring.”

   “Well, sometimes you have to work hard,” Naru said persistently, “have you never heard the phrase you reap what you sow?”

   “I don’t like sewing, either.”

   Naru laughed. “Well,” she said slowly, trying to think of a way to cheer the other girl up, “how about this then? We’re having a clearance sale at our store this week. Why don’t we drop by after school, you might see something you like? Something to put your mind off the test?”

   Usagi lifted her head, her expression brightening. “A sale? Your mother’s store has some really nice stuff. Do you think there will be anything I can afford?”

   “You could if I get Mama to give you our special friends and family discount.”

   “Really? You’d do that for me?” Usagi’s eyes widened, “thanks, Naru-chan!” She flung her arms around Naru’s neck, almost knocking her off the bench in the process.

   “Careful, Usagi-chan, you’ll choke me!”

   Usagi loosened her grip and looked her friend in the eye. “Seriously, Naru-chan, where would I be without you?”

   “Oh, come on, you’re only saying that because I promised to get a discount on some jewellery,” she smiled.

   “Well…” Usagi grinned in response.

   Naru rolled her eyes as she stood up. “Come on,” she said, pulling on her friend’s arm, “we’ll be late for afternoon class if we stay here too long.”

   Usagi pulled a face as she struggled to her feet, groaning at the thought of yet more lessons.

   “Usagi-chan…”

   “Alright, alright,” Usagi waved her hand dismissively in Naru’s face, “today is the start of a new Usagi, I promise.”

   The other girl smiled and nodded approvingly, holding out her arm for Usagi to take. As the two friends walked to class, Usagi turned to Naru once more.

   “Just how much is this friend’s and family discount, anyway?”

* * *

    The OSA*P jewellery store was already bursting at the seams by the time Usagi and Naru arrived, so much so that people had started to spill out onto the street, their noses pressed up against the windows for a glimpse of the heavily discounted merchandise behind the glass. Usagi had never seen it so busy. Judging by the look on Naru’s face, neither had she. Then again, if the sale prices advertised outside were anything to go by, it was no wonder.

   The two of them pushed their way through the crowds and into the store, narrowly avoiding being crushed in the melee. Usagi’s eyes widened as she was able to get a closer look at the prices on the red sale tags. Some of the items were reduced by sixty, seventy, even eighty percent. Good quality pieces, too, by the looks of things, not merely end of season stock. They were talking tens of thousands of yen. How could Naru’s mother afford it?

   “This is too much!” Naru whispered, clearly thinking the same as Usagi, “what is Mama thinking? Where is she?”

   Usagi stood on her tiptoes for a better view over the crowd. “There she is, over there!” she pointed towards the counter in the centre of the store, where Naru’s mother presided over the whole affair in a purple dress, conducting proceedings through a large megaphone. Despite the amplification, her voice was only barely audible over the bustling crowd.

   “Mama!” Naru called, pushing her way past a rather large woman running a string of pearls through her fingers.

   “Naru-chan,” her mother smiled, lowering the megaphone, “isn’t this wonderful? Look how busy we are!”

   “What’s going on?”

   “We’re having a sale!”

   “I know, Mama, but why are the prices so low? We can’t afford this!”

   “Don’t be silly, Naru-chan, of course we can! Get into the spirit!”

   “But Mama…” Naru started.

   “Naru-chan,” her mother interrupted her, what sounded like a note of irritation creeping into her voice, “I know what I’m doing. Don’t you trust me?”

   “Of course I do, but…”

   “Then why are you worrying?” Osaka-san smiled widely as she saw Usagi push her way to the front of the crowd. “Usagi-chan, what a lovely surprise! Are you here to buy yourself a treat?”

   “Well…” Usagi began. Even with the heavy discount, most of the prices were way beyond her budget.

   “How about this?” Osaka-san continued, ignoring the hesitant note in the girl’s voice and reaching into the glass cabinet for a gold ring set with a large diamond.

   “It’s beautiful,” Usagi gasped, marvelling at the way the light played against the faceted stone.

   “It retails for 500,000 yen, but you can have it for 30,000.”

   “Mama!” Naru gasped.

   “I - I can’t!” Usagi stammered, backing away from the counter.

   “Go on,” Osaka-san held the box out further, “live a little.” She smiled, her teeth glinting in the overhead light.

   “I’ll take it!” One of the other women shouted from the crowd behind, pushing Usagi to the side.

   “Sold!” Osaka-san cried, her voice booming through the megaphone as Naru pulled Usagi towards the front of the store and outside onto the street.

   “What was that?” Usagi looked at Naru with wide eyes.

   Naru shook her head. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen Mama act that way before. She’s normally so shrewd.”

   “Talk about getting caught up in the moment!”

   Naru frowned. “It’s so unlike her,” she said, “I wonder if something’s wrong…”

   “Like what? Naru-chan, you don’t think your mother is going out of business, do you? Like a fire sale?”

   Naru shook her head. “No, nothing like that…” she narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

   “Do you want me to stay?” Usagi asked, sensing the worry in her friend’s voice, “I can call my mother and tell her I’m going to be late?”

   Naru shook her head again and managed to squeeze out a smile. “It’s okay, Usagi-chan,” she said, “it’s probably nothing. You should probably go home anyway and break the news about the test to your mother, get it over and done with.”

    Usagi sighed. “You’re right, Naru-chan. I probably should. No point in delaying the inevitable.”

    Naru smiled, placing her hands on Usagi’s shoulders and giving them a supportive squeeze. “Be strong, Usagi.”

   Usagi forced a smile in return. “Thanks, Naru-chan.”

   As she set off on her way home, she pulled her test paper from her bag, smoothing out the creases from a day of being carelessly carried around. The number at the top of the page stood out so much she wondered if it had been written in some kind of special glowing ink. A thirty was pretty bad, even by her standards. Ikuko-mama would not be pleased.

   Usagi sighed. No time for regrets now, the damage was already done. She scrunched the piece of paper into a ball, and in a moment of abject recklessness tossed it over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it hit another pedestrian squarely on the shoulder, a girl, dressed in a brown school uniform Usagi recognised as belonging to another middle school in a different neighbourhood, although the girl was so tall she almost looked like a high school student. The girl scowled at her, stalking off before Usagi even had time to stammer an apology. Bending down to pick up the piece of paper, she stopped as she caught sight of a black cat on the other side of the street. It was strange, but it looked as though it were staring straight at her, watching her…

   _Silly_ , Usagi thought as she scooped up the piece of paper and shoved it into her pocket, before continuing on her way home.

* * *

    It turned out that Usagi’s mother, Ikuko, was already aware of her test score by the time she got home, having run into Umino Gurio earlier that afternoon. He had take great pains to tell her his own result, using it as an opportunity to offer up his services as a tutor, should Usagi be in need of them, of course. To Usagi’s horror, Ikuko had almost accepted.

   “Mama, Umino is the last person I would want to tutor me!” she had said, appalled, remembering Naru’s comments earlier that day.

   “Then you better start studying on your own, otherwise I will be giving his mother a call!” Ikuko had replied firmly, wagging a frying pan in her daughter’s face, before sending Usagi marching upstairs to do her homework.

   But Usagi could not concentrate, even less so than usual. She always had trouble focusing on her schoolwork, but that night there was something else, a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that things were not quite right, and it wasn’t just the threat of having Umino as her tutor hanging over her head.  She started tapping the end of her pencil nervously against her exercise book, crossing and uncrossing her legs restlessly. Her eyes scanned the mathematics textbook in front of her, but no matter how many times she tried to read it, none of it sank in.

   Finally, she stood up and opened the window, hoping the fresh air would do her some good. The sounds of the city at night drifted in through the open window, no more than a distant hum in her quieter neighbourhood, but audible nonetheless. On any other night she would have found them comforting, accustomed to them as she was, but tonight they seemed obtrusive and unwelcome.

   She returned to her desk, shivering when an unexpected breeze wafted in through the window. A sudden sound made her turn back around, her heart pounding. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realised it was just a cat that had leapt onto her windowsill from the tree outside.

   “Get a grip, Usagi,” she muttered, “you’re starting to lose it.”

   But there was something about the cat that seemed a little off. The way it held itself, watching her with interested, intelligent eyes, was a little too human. She could have sworn it was the same cat she had caught watching her earlier that day. But that was impossible, surely? As she stared in bewilderment, she noticed it had a strange mark in the middle of its forehead, a bald spot in the shape of a crescent moon. Usagi wondered if it was natural, or if the cat had been the victim of a cruel prank. It was certainly no ordinary alley cat, that was for sure. And then, when Usagi was certain things could not get any stranger, the cat spoke.

   “Sailor Moon, I have found you at last,” it said.

   But that was madness. Usagi giggled nervously. Whoever heard of a talking cat? Her imagination was playing tricks on her. It was probably stress, caused by too much studying, she decided. Maybe all she needed was rest, a good long sleep, then everything would be alright in the morning. But first, she should probably do something about that cat…

   “Well,” the animal said, and that time Usagi was certain that was what had happened, because she quite categorically saw its lips move, “aren’t you going to ask me in?”

* * *

    For once, Usagi was lost for words. She stared wide-eyed at the cat, whose name she now knew was Luna, unable to comprehend what she had just been told, or, indeed, what had just happened. Cats did not talk, yet here she was, having a perfectly normal conversation with one, if, of course, you could call the conversation that had just transpired between them normal.

   “Really, Usagi-chan, I don’t see what’s so hard to understand,” Luna sniffed.

   “That’s easy for you to say,” Usagi muttered.

   “Well, what’s so complicated about it? You are a warrior of truth and justice, and your mission is to find our princess and protect the world from the enemy.”

   “What kind of enemy?” Usagi asked hesitantly.

   “An enemy the police can’t fight.”

   “I don’t like the sound of that,” Usagi said nervously, “isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

   Luna rolled her eyes skywards. “Of course it’s going to be dangerous,” she said, “what did you think saving the world would be like? Besides, it’s not like you’ll be alone.”

   “There are others?”

   “Yes, and it’s your job to find them.”

   “But why me? I mean, I’m just a normal schoolgirl, I’m not like Sailor V, I don’t have any special training or anything.”

   Luna grinned. “That’s where I come in.”

* * *

    “Wow!” Usagi turned the brooch over and over in her hands before pinning it to the front of her uniform and twirling around in front of the mirror. “Thanks Luna, this is so cool!”

   “Wait until you see what happens next.”

   Usagi spun around. “What do you mean? There’s more?”

   “Hold the brooch above your head and say ‘Moon Prism Power, Make Up!’”

   “What does that do?”

   “There’s only one way to find out.”

   Usagi unpinned the brooch from her uniform and frowned. It looked like just a normal brooch. A very pretty brooch, but a normal brooch, nonetheless. Just what was it supposed to do? Still, she shrugged, what did she have to lose?

   “Moon Prism Power, Make Up!”

* * *

    “Agh! What happened to my clothes?!” Usagi spun around and around, trying to catch a glimpse of the full effect of her transformation. “You shrunk my uniform! Mama is going to kill me!”

   Luna let out a small giggle and smirked guiltily. “Your uniform hasn’t shrunk, Usagi-chan, you have transformed into Sailor Moon.”

   “What does that even mean?!”

   Luna sighed. “Stop jumping around and look closely. That isn’t your school uniform.”

   “You’re right,” whispered Usagi as she peered into the mirror, before turning to look at Luna. “Sailor Moon... Luna, is that what you meant by a warrior of truth and justice?”

   Luna nodded.

   “So what do I...”

   Sailor Moon jumped as a sudden scream pierced the air. It had sounded as though it was coming from inside her bedroom, but that was impossible. There was no one there but her and Luna. Just as she thought she had imagined it, another ear-shattering scream cut through the silence.

   “Luna, what’s happening?” she shouted, trying to make herself heard over the terrible screeching.

   Luna looked at her quizzically. “What are you talking about?” she asked, “and why are you shouting?”

   “You mean you can’t hear that?” she stared at Luna incredulously, “Luna, someone is...” She paused as the screaming stopped suddenly, and a voice started pleading for help, begging desperately for mercy as though its owner was in mortal danger. It was a voice she recognised all too well.

   “Luna,” she said shakily, “I think Naru-chan might be in trouble.”

* * *

    Sailor Moon cleared the distance between her house and the OSA*P jewellery store in record time, something she knew would have been impossible in normal circumstances. Luna had done well to keep up, arriving only seconds later.

   At first glance nothing seemed amiss. The lights were off and the double glass doors were firmly closed, which was certainly to be expected for that time of night, but Sailor Moon knew there was something wrong when she noticed the security shutter had not been pulled down over the windows. There was no way Osaka-san would have shut up for the night without making sure the shop was fully secure.

   She reached gingerly for one of the doors; they were automatic, but could be slid open manually in an emergency. It was unlocked and opened with minimal effort on her part, spilling the light from the street across the threshold and silhouetting her in the open doorway.

   Cupping one hand to her eyes and resting the other on her hip, she tried to make sense of the shadows inside. She swallowed nervously, her throat dry. Even in the feeble light it was obvious something was not quite right. The cabinets leered at her, the glass reflecting some of the moonlight from outside. Gemstones glittered in the half light, some of them strewn across the carpet where the cabinets had been smashed.

   “Do you think there’s been a robbery?” Sailor Moon whispered fearfully to Luna.

   “No,” Luna answered in equally hushed tones, “I doubt our enemy is interested in money or jewels.”

   “Look!” Sailor Moon pointed suddenly at the floor, the note of fear in her voice growing, “those are some of Osaka-san’s customers from earlier today! What are they still doing here?”

   Luna followed Sailor Moon’s shaking finger to the women and girls sprawled unmoving on the carpet. Some of them still clutched purses or school satchels. All of them appeared to be wearing at least one piece of the store’s jewellery. The placing of the bodies, clustered around the counter in the centre of the room, made it look as though they had all suddenly collapsed at the same. It was certainly unusual, but she had a feeling this was not the first time she had seen something like this. Why did it all seem so familiar?

   “Luna,” Sailor Moon whispered fearfully, “what shall I do?”

   “Check to make sure they’re okay,” Luna whispered in reply.

   “But what if they’re dead?”

   “What if they aren’t? They’re going to need your help!”

   “But...” The girl hesitated, hovering tentatively near the door, looking as though she were ready to bolt.

   “Hurry, Sailor Moon!”

   The urgency in Luna’s voice seemed to shake her out of her stupor. Bending down reluctantly, she brushed aside the hair of one of the woman with a trembling hand. Usagi had never even seen a dead body before, much less touched one. What was she supposed to do? She knew nothing about first aid other than how to check for basic signs of life - beyond that she was lost. As her hand grazed the woman’s cheek, she saw her exhale, and breathed a tearful sigh of relief.

   “I think they’re okay! It looks like they’re just unconscious.”

   As her eyes grew accustomed to the half light, she let them wander across the store she had been in only hours before, although to look at it now it was barely recognisable. She swallowed nervously, unable to shake the feeling that this was no ordinary robbery. She glanced again at the gemstones scattered across the carpet, and remembered Luna’s words. No robber would have left so much valuable stock lying on the floor. Unless of course, he had been disturbed, in which case...

   Sailor Moon whipped her head towards a sudden noise at the back of the store, her heart turning to ice as she realised that Luna had been right – this was no ordinary burglary, and she was looking at no ordinary burglar. In fact, whatever it was, it could not have even been human; its body was too distorted, its features too stretched, and its bone structure too twisted. Yet... its shape was recognisable enough for her to see that it was female, or had been, once.

   A black dress hung around its skeletal frame, with nothing more than the slightest swell at the chest and hips to suggest its gender. Its skin was drawn taught, every bone visible beneath its leathery, browned flesh. There was just enough light for her to see that it was facing away from her, towards the back wall, but as she stared in morbid fascination it started to turn its head, rotating it a full one-hundred and eighty degrees until they were face to face.

   The youma, for that was surely the only way to describe it, narrowed its eyes at the girl’s intrusion, the black slits spitting sparks of rage as its lips curled into a snarl, pulling the thin layer of skin even tighter across its cheekbones.

   “Who are you?” it rasped, its voice like sandpaper.

   “I – I…” Sailor Moon stammered, lost for words. So _this_ was what Luna meant when she talked about an enemy the police couldn’t fight...

   “Is that it? Is that all you have to say?” A harsh, grating sound suddenly erupted from the youma’s throat, as though something was caught in its gullet. Sailor Moon shuddered when she realised it was laughing.

   But that was not the worst of it. Dangling from one of the youma’s long claws, almost hidden from view by the positioning of its body, was its prey, a teenage girl no older than Sailor Moon, a tangle of red curls only just visible amongst the youma’s skeletal fingers. Sailor Moon remembered the terrified screams she had heard earlier that evening, and realised that her instincts had been right.

   _Naru-chan…_

   “Sailor Moon, look out!”

   Sailor Moon had little time to react to Luna’s warning before one of the woman who had only moments before lain unconscious on the floor lunged at her, swiping at her face with clawed hands. Caught off guard, she screamed and stumbled backwards, grabbing at one of the velvet drapes adorning the walls in an attempt to steady herself, her efforts in vain as she tumbled to the ground, bringing both the drape and the pole it hung from with her. She hit the floor with a heavy bump and winced at the impact as a bolt of pain shot up her spine. The other women were now on their feet, every single one of them wearing the same cruel grin as the youma, their hungry, glazed eyes fixed firmly on Sailor Moon.

   “Luna, what am I supposed to do?” she whimpered, as the women advanced in unison, elongated claws reaching towards her.

   “The youma is controlling them! If you defeat it, they will stop attacking you!”

   “How?”

   “You can use you tiara as a weapon!”

   “My tiara?” Sailor Moon frowned, puzzled as to how such a flimsy, decorative thing could possibly do any damage. She reached for the thin, gold band encircling her forehead, and as her fingertips touched the cool metal she was struck by an idea. A crazy idea, but an idea nonetheless. Perhaps this could work after all…

   Rising shakily to her feet, she gripped the tiara tightly, her eyes fixed on the youma at the other end of the room. All she had to do was distract it long enough so that she and Naru could escape this madness... She closed her eyes, whispering a brief prayer to whoever was listening.

   “Please...”

   _Come on, Usagi. Deep breath..._   

   “MOON TIARA ACTION!”

   She flung the tiara towards the youma as though it were a frisbee, hoping the sudden noise and the sight of the headdress flying through the air would be enough to shock the youma into releasing Naru. If she were even luckier, the tiara might even hit it. To her surprise, as soon as the tiara left her outstretched hand it transformed into a spinning gold disc, cutting through the air with more speed than should have been possible from the force of her throw.

   The youma hissed, shielding its eyes from the sudden burst of light and clawing at the air as if to knock the weapon to the ground, but the momentum it had gathered as it had spun through the air had made it razor sharp, and as it connected with the youma’s wrist it severed its hand in a single, clean cut, tearing through flesh and bone as though they were butter. The youma clutched at the shorn stump as blood geysered through its fingertips, howling with rage and doubling over in pain. Naru fell to the floor, spluttering and clutching at her throat, but otherwise unharmed.

   The other women screamed and clutched at their own wrists at the same time, crippled by the same pain as their mistress, but neither they nor the youma were incapacitated for long. With a terrifying shriek, the youma leapt towards Sailor Moon, its black dress billowing behind and the sea of women surging forward in her wake. Slamming the stunned girl into the wall behind, it lifted her by the neck, its eyes burning furiously. Sailor Moon struggled against the youma’s grip, legs kicking feebly at the wall as she tried to claw herself free.

   “Luna...” she croaked, struggling with every breath as her lungs burned and the blood pounded in her skull.

   She was suddenly aware of falling to the floor, air rushing into her lungs as the grip on her throat was abruptly released. The scenery around her swam in a jumble of colour as she tried to make sense of what had just happened, her eyes finally settling on Naru, crouched before her with what seemed to be a curtain pole in her hands.

   “Usagi-chan! Are you alright?!” Naru asked breathlessly, her eyes wide with concern.

   A weak cough was all Sailor Moon could manage.

   “Come on, we have to get out of here!” Naru continued urgently, “can you get up?”

   Sailor Moon nodded weakly, clutching her throbbing head as Naru offered a hand, all the while glancing nervously behind them. Putting all of her weight on Naru, Sailor Moon struggled to her feet, still weakened and disorientated from the youma’s attack.

   “Sailor Moon, look out!”

   Luna’s warning came too late, as one of the girls suddenly lunged at them, the jagged edge of a broken bottle glittering in her outstretched hand. Positioned between Sailor Moon and their attacker, Naru took the full force of the blow, with time only to lift her arm to protect her face as the girl slashed downwards, slicing through her sleeve and the skin beneath. She screamed in pain, falling forwards onto her knees and clutching at her arm as blood splashed onto the carpet.

   Seeing its chance, the youma leapt through the air to attack again, its severed stump still spewing gore. Luna reacted quickly as Sailor Moon tried to scramble to her friend’s side, launching herself at the youma and swiping at its eyes with her claws. Momentarily blinded, the youma wailed in frustration as it struggled to wipe the blood from its face with its uninjured arm.

   “Now, Sailor Moon!” Luna yelled as her paws hit the ground, “use your tiara again!”

   Sailor Moon froze in her tracks. Naru was still doubled over in agony, clutching her arm and whimpering in pain. She wanted desperately to make sure she was okay, but she knew she only had seconds at best if any of them were to get out of there alive. With a last glance at Naru, her hand shaking, she reached for her tiara, taking a single deep breath before unleashing her attack once more.

   Unable to react in time, the youma managed only to swivel its head towards Sailor Moon before the tiara slammed straight into the centre of its forehead. Its eyes widened in surprise as the force of the impact caused its head to snap backwards, before it exploded in a cloud of grey dust, a final enraged howl erupting from its lips. No longer under the youma’s control, the women collapsed into unconsciousness once more.

   Sailor Moon collapsed onto her knees, her transformation slipping away as she fell. Luna and Naru were by her side within seconds, their faces etched with worry, Naru with a bloodied scrap of sleeve pressed to her injured arm.

   “I – I’m okay,” Usagi said softly, pre-empting their concerns.

   “Are you sure?” Naru touched her arm gently, “what was that thing?”

   “A youma,” replied Luna.

   Naru stared at the pile of dust in the middle of the carpet, as a shiver ran through her body. “Is it dead? Where did it come from? Will there be more of them?”

   Usagi shook her head weakly. “I don’t know,” she said.

   “It’s dead,” Luna confirmed, “but there will be more, I’m sure of it.”

   “Really? One was bad enough,” Usagi smiled feebly.

   “Don’t worry, Usagi-chan,” Naru said kindly, sensing apprehension in her friend’s voice, “it’ll be okay. You’ve got me, remember?”

   Usagi shook her head. “No,” she said firmly, “I can’t ask you to do that.”

   “You’re not asking me to do anything, I’m giving you my help whether you want it or not. Besides, if you hadn’t been here...” her voice started to waver.

   Usagi looked up, reluctantly meeting her friend’s eyes. Even in the moonlight Naru’s face was pale and drawn, and behind her fragile smile her eyes shone with unshed tears. Her throat had already started to colour with bruises where the youma had grabbed her, and her clothes were splattered with blood. She looked beaten and exhausted, but Usagi doubted she looked much better herself.

   The urge to protect her friend told her she shouldn’t involve Naru; this was her fight after all, as Luna had said, but Naru was already involved, one way or another, and the temptation of not having to face whatever lay ahead alone was almost too much to bear. Besides, who was she to refuse help when it was offered?

   “Thanks, Naru-chan,” she said finally, “I... I could really use your help. But you have to promise you won’t do anything dangerous,” she added anxiously, “I’m the one with the magic powers, remember?”

   “I promise I won’t get in the way,” Naru gave her arm an affectionate squeeze.

   “That’s not what I...”

   “Usagi-chan, it will be fine,” Naru smiled reassuringly, “we’ll help each other out.” She cast a sideways glance at Luna, “now, uh, is anyone going to explain the talking cat?”


End file.
